Broken Bodies
by Butterfly8272
Summary: AU. A story of infinite love in the time of the Roman Empire. Oliver and Felicity.
1. The Intent of War

**73 AD**

_Her job was to collect firewood, that was the task she had been charged with and that was what she would do. The challenge to such a chore was finding the right kind of firewood, it must burn easily and exhaust little smoke, something that was near impossible in the northern reaches of the Britain island. But Fell did the best she could as she wandered across a shallow creek and into a steep ravine. She knew better than to wander too far from the group camped a small distance away, but all day she had ached with the need to be alone. The noise of the others constantly reverberated in her head while they traveled during the day, she could barely distinguish her own thoughts from one another. So even though gathering dry kindle was a chore, it had also become her haven. _

_ She did not realize just how far she had wandered until she noticed she could no longer hear the bubbling creek behind her. The trees thinned slightly and the forest was as still and hushed, not even a songbird could be heard from the branches above her. Fell immediately slowed her steps, becoming wary of what might be ahead of her. She knew she should probably turn back now, go back the way she had come, but something was drawing her forward; a curiosity that was never quite satisfied. She became very much aware of the sound her feet made each step as they stepped across the frost bitten ground, disturbing the frozen foliage beneath. She climbed a steeper incline that forced her to use her hands to keep sure footing and avoid sliding backwards. When she reached the top a wicked scene met her there and she fought to for breath when all the air was released from her lungs. _

_ Dozens of corpses filled the landscape, just as much frozen to the ground as anything else the chill touched. There were some decorated with the familiar pattern of blue lines that illustrated the intent of war, covering the faces and torsos of the men from a tribe not unlike her own. She felt coldness go through her as she recognized the violence that came with such a ritual. The warriors obviously found their fight as Fell looked upon the broken bodies and severed limbs of the victims of brutality, Britons and Romans alike. It was not the first time she had witnessed such a seen, but it was the first time she had found it so…untouched. It seemed that she had been the first one to come across the battlefield, many of the fallen Roman soldiers' garments and weapons remained intact and had yet to be looted. She fought against every instinct to run away back to the tribe's camp, and took a small step forward, unable to keep herself from acting on her inquisitiveness. She paused long enough to steady her breath and then took another step forward. Before she knew it she was in the middle of the obscene site, tiptoeing across uneven and bloodied ground. _

_Fell did not know what she was looking for, but she felt sure she would know when she found it. The scene of death never bothered the young woman, it was simply a matter of life; those that are born into this world must leave it. This was never clear to anyone more than it was to Fell as she was what remained of her bloodline, having witnessed everyone else die before her. But seeing the horrid mass of scarred bodies before her was both exhilarating and sickening all at once. She had just about convinced herself to turn back when a foreign sound broke the silence that had surrounded her. Fell quickly turned back around and stiffly waited for the sound to repeat itself. She was not sure if it was fear or excitement she felt when it did not disappoint her expectation, likely both. It took her a moment to distinguish where the sound was coming from before she decided on the direction she would walk. The eerie sound was now frequent enough that she began to recognize it. It seemed to be a deep growl, almost like the sound a fatally wounded wolf made before the hunter mercifully finished it. She knew then that someone was still alive within the massacre and she could not turn back now. It took her several more moment before she was finally able to locate the source of the sound, and when she finally did she was once again conflicted with what she should do. It was a roman soldier, buried underneath several bodies of his comrades and foe. He had yet to notice the lonesome girl wandering toward him and she knew she could easily slip away without being noticed but something about the Roman captivated her and she herself being pulled toward him. _

"_It is alright." Fell muttered as she knelt next to his head. The man winced at her sudden arrival, clearly aware that he was terribly exposed. She did not know if he understood her words, from his reaction she did not think he did. So she went about removing the load off of him without his permission, using all of her strength to push off the heavy bodies one at a time. After a few minutes the soldier began to help her as much as he could with his limited range of movement. It was not until the final corpse that Fell began to see the extent of the soldier's injuries. He was covered in a number of scrapes and wounds but none as severe as the one several inches above his navel. It was deep and contaminated and as soon as the pressure from the dead weight of the body was removed it began to bleed profusely. She immediately removed the thick hide that covered her shoulder and pressed against the man's torso, but quickly proved to be a lost cost as the gash continued to leak blood. Fell watched as the Roman, who had previously seemed alert and attentive, suddenly became drowsy and pale as he fought to keep his eyes open. She felt panic for the man she had just found moments before, to have survived such a horrible event only to die as soon as he was found seemed like such a waste. Her breath began to hitch as she frantically looked around for anything that would help her, anything at all. But nothing was discernible in the mess around her and Fell knew that the life in front of her would expire too soon._

**77 AD**

Fell gasped as she sat up hastily, letting the layers of pelts that covered her fall away to reveal her heaving breast. She fought to catch her breath and to identify where she was. The dark made the task difficult but eventually she was able to recognize the thick hides and aged timber that made up the small shelter she slept in.

"Fell?" The man next to her sat up also, immediately placing a hand on her back in comfort. "What is it?" There was still evidence of his foreign lineage in his voice but otherwise he spoke words from her tongue flawlessly.

"Just a dream," She breathed as she allowed him to pull back down to the nest of straw and linen beneath them. "Of the day a found the killing ground." She told offered him without being asked. She felt him stiffen against her and she folded her arm in such a way that she could trace the thick scar that was left behind on his torso, just above his navel.

"I am here now, with you." Oltivious mumbled in her ear as he pulled her closer to him.

"And you are all I need Ollie." She sighed before drifting back to sleep.


	2. What the Gods Would Envy

To hunt, that was what was expected of him and that was what he would do. Oltivius would hunt the nimble creatures that wandered the thick wood he walked through each morning with his crafted bow and his quiver of arrows. What he and the few men he traveled with collected would feed the group for nearly a week before they were forced to go out again. As much as he enjoyed the quiet and stillness the chore brought while in the forest, he did not always like how far away it lead him from camp, away from Fell. The woman had become everything to him in the past four years since she had found him near death, on the battlefield that became a burial ground for many of his comrades and friends. If it had not been for her quick thinking, Oltivius knew he would have joined them in the afterlife.

It was she that convinced her elders to let him remain with the tribe for the winter, or at least until his wounds healed enough. It was not a simple task especially when he wore the eccentric uniform of a Roman officer, proclaiming him to be the exact type of person that had warred and persecuted the native people of Briton. He could not comprehend the words she had said to the tribal king, the language barrier and slipping in and out of consciousness made it hard to understand anything from that time. What he did know was that he had the comfort of food and shelter throughout the winter because of Fell. And when the winter frost melted into spring and Oltivius intended to depart the small village to make the journey to the nearest Roman fort, he found that he could not leave. Something kept him next to Fell's side, an imperceptible need to remain near and guard her well-being. He worked hard to learn the customs and language of the tribe, something that proved to be more than difficult, but eventually he was able to gain the trust of the majority of the tribe.  
It was something else entirely to gain the entirety of Fell's confidence and trust. It was her soft heart and empathy that had made her take him in at first. She faithfully nursed him back to health throughout the cold months with the help of one or two other women from the tribe. But she was not naïve enough to not realize why Oltivius did not leave when he was clearly capable of doing so. And although they had shared some affection in the long, frozen nights, no more than a stolen kiss here and there, she was not about to hand herself over head over foot. Fell made him earn her trust just as much as everyone else did. While they worked to become familiar with one another, they also exchanged the knowledge they each had of a particular skill. He taught her some skill with a blade and to read from the Roman texts that he carried with him while she taught him her native tongue and archery.

"Where have you gone Oltivius?" The question tore him from his thoughts and forced him to focus on the present. He met the amused gaze of Drustan, a member of the hunting party and a dear friend of Fell's.

"Nowhere." Oltivius answered curtly. "Have the others come back?"

"I can hear them crashing through the branches now." Drustan goaded. His words were of course an exaggeration, the Briton people had become notorious for their covertness and stealth while traveling through the undergrowth of the forest.

"Let's get back then." Oltivius gave the order and his companions followed without question, carrying their load of game on their backs as they made their way back to camp. Nightfall came yearly this time in the year and the men knew better than to stay in the wilderness unprotected longer than necessary. To their benefit, they were able to reach camp after only a few hours, just as the sun sunk beneath the snow covered horizon.

"We will eat well tonight." Brennus boasted as they entered the shanty village of hide covered tents and lean-tos.

"Mind yourself." Drustan schooled the younger hunter. "This winter is bound to be harsher than the last and will just as hard on the game as it is us." Oltivius did not wait to see if Brennus headed the warning, he doubted it, instead he dropped all of his catch next to a roaring bonfire to be skinned and prepared by other tribesmen and kept a fattened hare for himself. He did not offer a second glance to those he bassed as he made his way outside of the main group, walking toward a small shelter that sat away from everything else instead. As he drew near, he began to hear the words of a Celtic prayer being softly sung just outside of the tent. A small fire was just beginning to eat away at the structure of kindle it grew from. Oltivius stopped a moment to hear the final verse Fell was whispering to herself as she cut away at the wild vegetables she had gathered.

Her strikingly yellow hair was loosely braided back and her fair skin was flushed from the cold air. She was a woman of slight stature, years of hard winters and neglectfulness had made her seem miniature compared to Oltivius' towering frame. But there was nothing about her that should be mistaken as weak. Fell was someone that learned early in age that she would need to be self-reliant and independent in order to survive. Her mother died in childbirth and her father was killed in conflict against the Romans not long after. She and her younger sister, Genovefa, were seen as a charity that the tribe could not provide for and they quickly became pariahs, remaining with the clan for protection only. What the elders could not have foreseen, was the benefit the two women would become to the tribe as they polished their skills during their years of forced self-sufficiency. Fell had skill with the bow, hitting her target from great stretches with little effort at all. While Genovefa proved herself to have talent in healing, using the herbs and plants of the natural landscape to heal a number of ailments. But despite their newfound niche in the clan, they chose to remain apart from the rest. Oltivius saw reason and fault in this but he resisted the urge to say anything to Fell, she would only do what she thought was best for her and the sister she had protected for so long and Olvitius had no right to question that.

Without a word he sat next to her on a moss covered boulder, just in front of the fire and went about skinning the rodent he had caught earlier. She did not stop her quiet tune for him but did offer a soft smile at his arrival. Fell started another melody, singing louder than before now that she had him as an audience. He did not tell her often, but Oltivius loved to hear her sing the chant's she had picked up over the hears from the elders of the tribe. She only sang in front of him or Genovefa, he would not have been surprised if no one else in the camp knew of her voice she was so private about it. Her verses went on until she finished her chore and while she helped him prepare the hare to roast over the open flame. When it was decided they were done, she sang her last note sharp and clear, leaving it hanging in the cold air.

"How the Gods would envy if they heard your voice." He whispered when she lay her head on his shoulder.

"You mock me." She feigned offense. He had taught her of the many Gods the Romans had come to worship and praise. It all sounded like nonsense to her with their petty disagreements and vain actions. She found great humors in the stories he told to her while they lay together late at night.

"Never." He whispered, placing a soft kiss on the top of her head.

"I believe you." She muttered just before sneaking a kiss of her.


	3. They Came with Swords and Malice

Fell woke up the next morning feeling chilled. A deep frost had settled in the camp over night and it intruded into the tent she shared with Oltivius and Genny. She sank deeper into the thick pelts and fabrics that covered her and buried her iced nose into the warmth of Ollie's neck. He twitched a bit in his sleep and made a noise of objection to her action. She accommodated herself further by wrapping her cold feet around his warm ones. This time she could distinguish a groan from the noises he made and maybe the word "cold" also. She enjoyed waking him up this way in the mornings, slowly tormenting him to consciousness. He usually took his revenge in kisses and other suggestive acts.

It was not uncommon on days like these that Fell found herself astounded that the former Roman officer was still there lying next to her. It was pity that had made her take him in when she first stumbled on him several years ago and it was empathy that made her fight to keep him under the protection of the clan when it seemed that he would survive his wounds. And it was an unexplained curiosity that allowed herself to become bonded with the man. She used to keep herself up for hours wondering what kept him here. Fell whole-heartedly expected to wake up one morning to find him gone, his scant few belongings disappearing with him. It was a feeling she could not rid of the entire thaw of spring. She knew his people had to somewhere on the body of land they called Briton. But each day she woke up with him next to her, often times wrapped in his embrace. She let this apprehension follow her for almost two years before Ollie began to recognize the anxiety that shown in her eyes more and more.

"_What troubles you?" Oltivius asked her one morning while he struck the flint that would create their fire._

"_What do you mean?"_

"_You are stiff and distracted, you have not said a single word all morning." _

"_The snow has begun to melt on the peaks of the mountains." She said cryptically._

"_Yes, I think they may actually lose all their snow it has been so warm of late." He played along, patiently waiting for an explanation. _

"_It will make the passing much easier." _

"_Why would we go by that way?" He said, confused. "I thought Odin kept the tribe on this side of the cliffs." _

"_Will you not be going then?" Fell inquired. _

"_Would you like me to leave?"_

"_No!" She did not mean to cry out. "No, I want you here…I mean you can stay if you would like…we have plenty." _

"_Then here is where I will stay." He grinned at her discomfort. _

"_You mean that?" She asked shyly. _

"_Here is where I want to be." _

Oltivius never fully explained his decision to remain with the "barbarians of Briton", why he would drop the wealth and title that she knew meant so much to the Roman people. She suspected he was hiding from something, that what he found here was better than what he had left in the Empire. Fell did not pry though, she was one that understood the necessity for secrets. And she learned not to dwell on it, for now Oltivius was there and that was more than she could say for anyone else who had played any role in her life. He was the extra hands to help and the necessary strength to protect. Genovefa had instantly become attached to him as soon as she found the courage to speak to him. He told her fantastical stories of heiresses and heroes, of villains and conjurers. She would tell him now that she was too old for such tales but Fell knew that it would only be untrue.

"What are you thinking so much on?" Oltivius interrupted her thoughts.

"You…Genny." She sighed.

"Where is the sly fox now?" He asked, looking over at the empty nest of pelts next to them.

"With Drusten I would think." She said

"What for?" He looked utterly perplexed and Fell could only shake her head at him and smile at his confusion.

"She wants to be with him," She said. "I think he wants to be with her."

"Oh…"

"He is good for her, he will provide her everything she will need."

"I'm sure." He sounded skeptical. He felt a sense of protectiveness over her sister Fell knew. Genovefa was only three years her junior and could manage her own just as well as Fell but Genny did not seem to mind the certain brotherly attention Oltivius had afforded her over the years.

They lay in silence for a while longer, waiting for the morning to chase away the night's frost just a bit more. Fell fingered the bands that Oltivius wore on a wrist; one was the dyed ribbon of wool they received when they completed the ceremony that bonded them for life. Ollie told her that where he came from they would have been referred to as 'man and wife', but Fell did not like those words for them. They both wore the bit of fabric that came from the same harvest of wool, they were one and the same but continued to be themselves all the same. The other band that adorned his arm was a piece of stamped leather that said "Carpe Deim", which Ollie once told her translated to "seize the day". It was a proverb his father would tell him time and time again. The band itself had belonged to his father, a general in the Roman forces. He had been one of the many to die the day Fell had stumbled upon Oltivius. Ollie had been too weak to find him and Fell was none the wiser. It was several weeks before he had the physical strength to make the trek back to the battlefield. Drusten had gone with him because Oltivius did believe it safe enough for her to return and Fell did not argue, never again did she want to see the staggering amounts of death and decay she had witnessed that morning. When they returned, Oltivius retreated into a silence and reprieve and did not talk to anyone for several days, she could see the pain he felt at what he had seen. Drusten later told her that after some time they found the General between the expired men and he had helped Oltivius burry the body. The only thing Ollie had retrieved was the weathered band everything else was buried with the Roman.

"I must help the men prepare the meat from yesterdays hunt." Oltivius finally said.

"Let Brennus struggle some," She sighed. "It would do him well."

"You say that now," He chuckled. "But just wait until the dead of winter and we are low on reserve." Slipping on extra layers of clothing, he quickly prepared for the day with Fell not far behind him. They left the cover of their tent and went about their chores with the rest of the clan. Fell continued to gather any vegetation that would last through winter and then treated the animal hides that came from the men as they prepared the meat from the hunt the day before. It was the same thing day in and day out, everyone did the work as they were expected.

By sundown Fell was bent over at the creek, washing the tools the men had used in their work. The blood came off easily of the sharpened stones and dull iron. She made sure to lay them out in the sun to dry before returning them to their rightful owners, to preserve them as long as possible. She was so caught up in her work she did not notice the growing disruption that was coming from the camp just over the hill. It was not until she heard a shrill scream from one of the women that she became aware of anything out of the ordinary. The first cry had drawn her attention, the second caused her to act. The scream sounded too much like Genny's and it immediately pulled Fell into action. She stumbled up the steep slope so that she could over look the small camp of the clan, what she saw her was unimaginable.

Dozens of men sharply dressed in Roman uniform swarmed the shanty village below. They came with swords drawn and an angered look in their eye. No one in the camp was immune to the violence that was brought down on the tribe. Children were torn from their mothers, women were thrown to the ground and the men were beaten where they stood. Fell ran back down to the stream and gathered the tools she had been rinsing, carrying as many as she could in her small hands. She quickly made her way over the hill and toward the hut she shared with Oltivius that sat away from the destruction that was taking over the rest of the clan. She searched frantically for any sign of her sister while she ran, trying to remember where she had last seen Genovefa.

"Fell!" Oltivius had already made it to the tent, sword drawn and dagger secured around his waist.

"Ollie! Why are they here? What do they want?" Fell cried.

"Blood." He said while he handed her a bow and quiver of arrows. "They are extinguishing the menace before it can become one." Fell did not understand what he was saying, never before had the clan been any threat against the Roman Empire, they had barely dealt with any Romans before Oltivius had joined them.

"You need to run Fell." Oltivius ordered, tightly gripping her forearm. "Run as fast and as far away from here as you can. Under no circumstances do you allow them to capture you alive."

"No! I will not leave you. I will not leave Genovefa." She panicked. "Genny, Oltivius I do not know where Genny is."

"I will find her, just run." Oltivius said and turned toward the carnage. A horrible thought crossed Fell's mind as she watched him move away from her.

"Oltivius." She called, he looked back around at her. "They will find you a traitor. They cannot know you are Roman."

"I know." He said solemnly.

**AN: I am still not sure how far I will take this story I am just going where the imagination leads. Obviously I am taking some drastic creative freedoms with the story so I am sorry if that perturbs people. I obviously do not own the CW Arrow. Thank you for all of the support and reviews, I love it!**


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